On the school run one morning my Thomas is singing along with me:
I am a rock
I am an i-i-island
And a rock feels no pain
And an island ne—ver dies
Dad, he says, pretending to be really asking, not just being a smart-arse:
Do you really not feel pain?
Brauer asked: Totally reasonable and innocent question. So what’s the answer, ‘Swanie the rock’? ‘Peter the Rock’? True Granite?
Which reminds me of Larry the Yank back in 1969 who said of the Afrikaners in Harrismith: ‘They just hate being taken for granite’.